our flight plan repetition
dead people’s luggage clogs the runways of the mind.
exploitation of the blind
grounded forever in the baggage of your kind,
tied up together in tales of better times
with snapped straps that we have chosen to rebind.
travelling through life, imaginary friends at your side
tell us all exactly what it is that you expect to find?
My friends, the truth is that we are all just flying blind,
whirling on a rock, staring at a star with streaming eyes
and we are all alone, together, hoping it will rise,
and that we are just a moment, blinking through the sky.
Image is “Earthrise” from Wikipedia taken by William Anders on the Apollo 8 moon mission: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earthrise